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A Tome, A Tale
"The eyes, once bleached by shooting stars of utmost augury, shall eternally see the dim insight drawn by the devastating query, as only the true enquiry fabricates the contours of such. The rest is vulgar fables, attempts to impose order on the consensus mantlings of an uncaring godhead." A black, slimy tentacle held a black as pitch book aloft in front of an eyeball that was surrounded by black gunk, in which tentacles squirmed off of it. The iris of the eye itself was a deep purple, and if gazed into, seemed like it could stare into your very soul. A portal floated from behind the creature, from which it's body extended from, keeping a mystery as to how big the creature truly was. The tentacle placed the book back on a stack of other books, and sunk into the ground below. The portal floated over to another set of books upon a shelf; the black, gunky creature stared at each title of a book it placed it's gaze upon. It easily found another book, one that brought great interest to it. A Tale of Woe ''was the title, it was purple on it's cover and the pages were a emerald-green. A vortex formed and a tentacle erupted forth from it, gently grabbing the book by it's spine. The book was held aloft before the being, and once more, it began to read the pages of the book. ''"I've learned much about the universe, having lived for over a millennium. And in that time I have discovered that the people you love are what is worth fighting for..." Arbiter had concluded, the great ships of the mind creep the waves toward their destinies. After long years, a number of legends lost in the mists of morning. Even after forgetting, wisps of stories find their ways to receptive ears as even the deepest of secrets, never truly die. It was by these archaic, faded, but still active magics of the departed glories of the long-dead worlds held. Inspecting through the glass-smooth, rippling reflections of the surrounding pools, deep below, the slow pulse, the waxing and waning of the Balance. The tentacle placed the book back upon the shelf, making sure it was still alphabetized with all the other tomes that were placed in an orderly fashion. Everything was placed perfectly in Totema, the world of pure knowledge. Books were stacked nicely and neatly, as in, they were on mountains atop one another. Books flew about in vortex, surrounding one another, opening up every so often. The black, gunk creature had it's vortex float over to another shelf, a tentacle emerged from the ground, and grabbed another book, it's title was A Tale of Power. The same tentacle branched off, forming another tentacle that turned the book open; the first words appeared, and with that, a red, luminous light formed around the book. The creature's eye widened in surprise at the change, it seems it had chosen a good book to read, indeed. This piece of literature must have amassed a great amount of knowledge. What secrets lied within the lines? "..For now.. hatred does not die.. however it can be contained.." She thinks a little to herself, her eyes still a little wild "..like misery and madness.. concepts do not die.. it doesn't mean we should stop fighting though.." Such latency within! Through delusions of inspiration have bolstered formal talent into fruition. But how many are there who hate this mortal? It is the animosity of the mortals which confirms potency, and not their love. Surely it can be accomplished as well? Nay. Mortals are repulsed by madness, but rarely think it worthy of hate. Love is the ultimate foundation, one that can repel the depravity of hate, and thus can lead the madness down a greater, more inspirational path. That without madness, there are no dreams, and no creation. A great many will never forget this lesson. '' The tentacle being placed the book back upon the shelf, it's red glow diminishing when it was put back in place. It moved it's portal, searching and searching for another tome to come across. One that could bring both interest and flair. It found just the book, and grabbed it off the top of a mountain of tomes. It stared at the cover, it's eye narrowing at the name of it, ''A Tale of Hate. This title was one he knew quite well, it was familiar with this one's past, at how this one's story continually changed, over and over. The biography was quite good though, and was not a bad read. Both the biography and this tome were quite well put together, and the one whom this book was about was very different compared to most beings in the Multiverse. An interesting, and great legendary being indeed. "There are only so many times that a man can sacrifice himself before the gesture grows meaningless - only so many times one can return to one's home to be ridiculed and scorned by the very people he had saved.. there are only so many nights one can spend alone gazing at the stars and wondering why the woman he loved had to leave.. her innocence shattered by the malice of dead kings.. I tried to be the destroyer, I wasn't strong enough - I tried to be the hero, I wasn't good enough.. so now when all is said and done I am simply tired of fighting: all my life I have been considered a demon, at least here in the depths of Tartarus I would be amongst my own kind.." '' ''It was Inferno's decided fate, the ancestors among him. The progenitors not departed. The deceased are not below. Their spirits are in the turbulant wind, in the crackling flame's voice, in the foot-smoothed steps of the trodden ground, within and around. Pay heed to these things. Pay reverence. Acquaint the forefathers with duty, with comings and goings, with grace and assay. '' ''A sacrifice given... Is not a sacrifice lost... To new doors may open... A new life... Heed the phantoms, teachers of enlightenment, seers of fate. Each vex... Each perplex... Each disturbance... Live in one world with your precursors. Honor them within and without you... The book was gently shut, as the one-eyed being placed it back atop the mountains of books. It kept it's eye upon more books, countless stacks of books. It had every bit of knowledge it needed. It didn't require a taste for sacrifice, or a lust for madness, nor a feeling of woe. It now would be sated for something of great difference. It was searching, searching for a new tome, a way to complete it's first set for reading. And that's when it easily and quickly came across it's mind. A simple being, a princess with a simple life, of whom she became queen. This was a snap, finding the next book lying about on a desk, a tentacle shot out, practically ripping the book open to turn to a few pages to read it's contents. The name, A Tale of Separation. "The end is near... always... in one place or another... everything is transient... nothing remains forever... we all struggle to survive, yet none of us will... One could call it unfair, wouldn't you say?" Amnesty, princess, queen, of Silvast, has spoken of the end times, in and of different places. Thousands of numbered ages in the black void that destined clans that had grown deep-rooted in evil. A higher being resolved to punish those unfaithful souls, and blighted the impetuous caitiffs. But ever shall Darkness truly meet the Light, and no bond might bind them, so deep were they in greed and perfidy. For once the vortex has been opened, who shall shut it upon the increasing torrent? The book was seemingly slammed shut, and the tentacles all came about the floating eyeball, each tentacle had a book desired. A Tale of Woe, A Tale of Power, A Tale of Hate, A Tale of Separation. The tentacles held each book aloft, as the one-eyed being floated into the next room, it's vortex close behind to give it movement. A light shone down in this room from the ceiling, and four pedestals were in the surrounding light. Each tentacle removed a glass case, gently placing each book on top, then placing the glass case over each book. It was splendid, a work of art to the creature, it could only see this as a sign of great respect and reverence to the four written about in each book. If only biographies could deserve as much enjoyment as books entailing a third-person view could, even if each book held some fine literature, the biographies were still good as well. It floated along, it's portal holding it aloft and gently following wherever it moved. It's sight was now placed on the section locked off, just in case it had some strange visitor who would traverse too deep and come across said section. Using it's boneless appendage, it unlocked the lock placed upon the door, entering the confines of the dusty room. It floated past many books, countless ones that seemed to be writing themselves, it floated farther into the darker section of the room, and grabbed a glowing, closed lexicon, lifting it up with it's tentacle. The black being read the cover It turned a few pages back, Tome of False Gods was the title. It used it's tentacle to open to the middle of the book, and then flipped a few pages back. "The Absolutes are of the Old Creation - we are of the New.. we will purge your cosmos of the old and begin the cycle of Rebirth.. however for Rebirth to begin there must first be Destruction.." As the Infinites placed it when they began their strike upon the Multiverse, usurping the Absolutes. Was the Alpha the master of the entire Multiverse, or did the weaker, timorous creatures have the strength to forge their own destinies? Do they, do they not? In the end, they do die. Death is seen as simply the beginning of the next stage of an never-ending journey. Another way to continue the endless wheel that spins nonstop. The Infinites themselves could still not hold a candle to the Alpha, a being who, in addition with it's very Shadow, created the Multiverse. One can only stare in awe at the sight of such an agile and powerful being of creation. And thus, their banishment was conveyed toward themselves, for their foolishness and greedy desires. '' The book was lightly closed, the black tentacle nicely placing the book upon the wall where the rest lied across. It turned about, floating across the room to leave, locking the gate behind it. Though it just read a few paragraphs, the knowledge in it was great, from every book, it seemed to continually gain more and more. Even if it knew everything, there was always more to learn, more to piece together, more to... Remember. Remember? Yes... Remember. The black being continued on it's way, coming to a room that contained books, of which floated in light; turning about showing their titles for only a few moments then turn back to hide their covers. Revolving to acknowledge a book that floated in a black light, it had a sword within, as if it were a bookmark, the black being floated to the book, and grabbed ahold of it. ''A Novel of Darkness. The book was opened, and the eye of the creature watched as the tentacle flipped the pages, finally coming to a stop. "Ignorance is a very dull trait Equis, arrogance is equally unappealing - you should listen to the girl.. of course she may think differently of you when she learns it was you, not your brother, who destroyed Avalon and painted it's streets with the blood of thousands.. men, women, children.. dragon and pegacorn alike.. your brother waits upon a shattered throne Equis, waiting for the moment to strike you down.. yet in your stupidity you toss aside valuable resources.." Ebonscale stated coldy. Bone extrusions gnash and pulverize, in the moist darkness of smacking heat. While torn flesh from protruding bones, the body continues to eat. Ebonscale, whose sphere is the wanton capture of mortal souls, sought to thwart the elder gods and primordial forces. Who knew that none mortal could not escape eventual death. The gods were doubtless of his sphere, to that, they were bested. His foul aspects placed upon Avalon, his eternal soul broken to a piece, in Midnight. The expanding Multiverse, the growing flights, the undenied strength of togetherness in friendship and bonds held aloft, hold him at bay. Unperturbed by those who show strength in numbers, a continual use in darkness and power, one can seek the destruction in foul orbs, those that look to you from the foul depths of Tatarus. The book was placed back in the black light, another tentacle erupted from the ground, holding a book titled Ebonscale: The Eldest, of which was also placed in the black light. The books orbited one another, the black creature regarded the books before turning about, leaving this room alone... For now... It left the room, and turned down a long hallway, which has scrolls hanging along the walls, and stacks of papers lining the floor. It continued down this path, entering a room filled with books that had chains and padlocks on them to keep the book from being opened. but there was a thirst for this being, a flavor of knowledge it needed to get it's tentacles upon. Floating past a book that shook and rattled, and another that appeared to, oddly enough, had a face of a strange demented being upon it. The creature made it's way to where one book was kept behind a glass dome, in which four lights shot at it from different directions. The book was held aloft by these light, but the singular-eyed being sent a shockwave through the glass, disabling the lights from affected the book any longer. The glass dome appeared to melt, and within moments, tentacles wrapped around the book titled Of the First Sin. Unlocked the book with it's very appendages, it opened a few pages, of which black energy spilled out from the pages. For a moment, the energy itself seemed to overtake the black creature, but it's eye glowed a golden color suddenly and the black energy receded back into the book. It began to read', '"You'll... erase me?" Eclipse asks incredulously before chuckling darkly. "Impossible. As long as hatred is eternal, then I too, shall be. Eternal." As he says this, Eclipse's body appears to shatter like glass, and a new, monstrous figure emerges, akin to a cloud of black mist. Striding through a great mist toward the sound of laughter, merriment. The haze soon dispersed, and before lied a great, dark chasm. Waters roared over its fringe, and so deep was it, not one could see the end. A deteriorating reminder of those primitive days for the deceased, though also, a tale for those who fell long down below. A taste, a lick, a mouthful. A flame burning bright violet within a vast void. An emptiness brimming with Darkness. A sea of fingers, a cloud of memories. Each burns bright, then gleams. Then two more take its place, but not evermore, for the void fills with fetid light that sucks the thought. But the flames are dangerous. And must be carefully tended, minded, and brought to themselves. Spread to their kin. No. The spreading of the light further entraps those in the chasm, one where those of the forgotten, continue to reach up, begging, pleading for rope to climb. but to none does it come. An apple taken, is an apple corrupt. The book was closed, but held in hand by one of the tentacles, which sunk into the ground. It seemed to hold onto this book, as if there were more pieces to it, or if there was a big puzzle to solve within the lines itself. This book intrigued the one-eyed creature, which turned path and left the room, paying heed to the other books in the room. yes, it will certainly return to this room soon enough. The creature floated down the hall to the next room, which contained the books upon normal humans. It enjoyed a good, everyday tale, even if some were dark or some contained a innocent mind. Any way it was, it was always a great adventure. It had tentacles search and search, quick and smooth down the satcks and stacks of books, rifling through names and others. Until a black book was grabbed, it had a Golden Fist emblem upon it. The librarian stared at the book, it seemed impressed, well, as impressed as any cosmic creature that had no facial expressions could give. It had the tentacles open the book, as it flipped through a great many pages. It took note on how the words appeared to look digital, even with them still written in ink, and that the edges of each page were emblazened with pure gold. It came to stop, quite happy with the first words that it came across: "I am The Voice of man, you have committed a grave error on this day - I offered you friendship and you spat upon it: now I shall see to it your species is wiped from the plane of this existence.. and all others.." Bodies, blood. The deceased, their eyes still open, staring into a deep void. Seeing, but not seeing. The All-Sight creates a turning in the minds, holding them up in their absolute primacy. Even in end, the cold embrace, all encompassing, the All-sight sees it still. As Eternal and Pitiless as the All-Sight, none can hold their candles to it's Light. They knew the All-Sight's rages, it's fits of anger, how it delighted in torture and murder for it's own sake. And there were even more heinous rumors: Some said it devoured the souls and blood of those it killed to extend it's unnatural life. But the All-Sight also was something more. An embodiment of Tyranny, the All-Sight controls all, knows all, sees all, understands all, encompasses all. The All-Sight's Light sweeps beyond and forth, extending it's reach, further and further, continually. It does not stop. It does not quit. It has no guilt. The being closed it's eyes before having a tentacle take the book as well, the appendage sinking into the ground with the book. It turned about, leaving the room. A new taste, one very chaotic or at least one filled to the brim with emotion and feelings. It traversed the halls once more, looking, searching. A being who could hold this much emotion it required was in the Empyrea Sector, which contained all beings who lived within the realm. It rushed down the hall, the portal holding it aloft following after it as quickly as possible. The double-doors were opened as the librarian flew in, having it's tentacles search through each book, as quickly as possible. Some books being thrown, only to be caught by other tentacles from behind. Until a book was practically ripped from the section, it being a flaming pink, glowing with energy. A Tome of Laughter. The book was opened, and what appeared differed greatly from most of the other books. Balloons flew out of the tome, colored a hot pink. A large merry-go-round formed, and upon each horse or sleigh contained the girl the book was issued to. So to speak, clones of herself were riding on the carousel. Words appeared before the carousel, "But I made them happy!" Nebula said. "Isn't happiness the best thing you can give?" '' ''Journeys begin at the bottom of the hill that ascends all the way to the Heavens of completion. Ripping forth from the skies themselves, a wave of-'' It had appeared as if the words were scrawled then, becoming greatly illegible. Unreadable. The girl's copies, of whom were on the merry-go-round giggled and squealed with delight, laughing joyously at the fun they were having. One appeared to transform, slowly molding itself into that of a man whom had red hair. It was the closest thing the librarian could see, well that and the man had his arms folded on the ride, as if not enjoying it at all. The giggling stopped, and then words once more formed before the carousel, ''Imagine. Beneath the ground, a tiny, pathetic acorn planted by some well-meaning child of land of the woods for her pleasure. Longing it to grow but fearful of what it could become, so it is kept from the light, from water. But it is in the coercing that it becomes a tree, in spite of others. How did that happen? A tree could be a me, which could be a knee, which could be a lee. '' Laughter was heard once more, giggling from all of the little copies of whom the book contained knowledge of. The biography was definitely easier on one's soul. But the librarian could handle this overwhelming set of emotions, and so it slowly closed the book, staring at the carousel as the book slowly closed upon it, the little projections of the girl giggling still, as the black creatured eyed the last glimpses of the carousel before the book closed. It had a tentacle hold onto the book, for this one greatly interested it. This was a defnite re-read for later. The tentacle sunk deep into the ground with the book. It continued down it's path, passing all the other sectors, the planet, realms, and different universe sections, which held countless books. Some stories like the ones it had read earlier, others were biographies, some containign the same information, but less detailed and more focused upon their lives, and how they lived. Finally reaching the end of the hall, it placed it's own tentacles upon the door blocking the way, forcing it to open. There were only two large books in the room, and above them was a sign that stated, ''Totema. The tentacled being floated over to the two books, looking first at the black book that had a purple eye on it and had the words Veda, on it. Ignoring the book, it turned to the tome next to it, which was split down the middle of purple and orange. It had what appeared to be two eyes and under them it's words were Faible, and seemed to dance upon the cover, literally, they moved about, as if they were living. The book opened up suddenly of it's own volition. The writing on the book itself moved and fluttered about the pages, moving onto other pages or simply 'dancing' on the pages themselves. Voices could heard whispering, then added laughter of what seemed to be children. It was continuous, nonstop. Words began to make themselves out on the pages, a voice soon enough being heard from the book itself. "A summons? Is a message here for me? Oooh!! Wait!! A death threat written upon the left side of a human abdomen? CHEESE!!" The librarian slammed the book shut with one of it's tentacles, eye widened slightly in surprise at the voice that spoke through. It seemingly shook it's whole body, not feeling up to opening it again, it turned about, leaving the room. The being floated about, knowing that it would get back to it's three re-reads of the books it greatly desired. but it needed to look at one last thing, so it continued down a path of it's own, floating high above the shelves and up atop a mountain of books that held themselves up from what appeared to be a lake of black goo. This was seperated from the library for a great reason. It continued up, eventually reaching the top, as it floated toward a pedestal, whcih held a single sheet of paper, there were inscriptions all over it, but there was also a problem, at some parts, there were marks that had found their way onto there. Black marks that kept the image from being fully seen. What had caused this? A very important piece to a very important place. ruined, desecrated. Without it's knowledge, what could be done? Only the black being itself knew what was truly behind those black marks, these marks that tainted it's perfection. The true secret itself was... Damaged. It shook it's body, looking about the rest of the peak of books that created the large mountain, to see if there was any cause to the ruin of the most important piece of literature it had. This being had this piece of work to protect and uphold, but it had suddenly grew tainted... As if over night. Not a single soul has entered it's world in eons, not one. But even so, taint, evil, and rot have found it's way, even to it's realm. Research had to be done, every bit of knowledge that the being itself had needed to be used to fix this. It needed the page to be complete once more. The creature left the mountain of books, floating down back into the halls of shelves. A small glimmer caught it's eye, a pure white book, placed atop one of the shelves. It floated over, and began to reach for it. As soon as it is reached for the book shimmers and a portal of blinding light appears, seeming to penetrate the entire realm - a voice speaking out from the portal as the book is lifted by unseen hands into the portal and vanishes: <<..in time Veda.. all stories must be told.. for now, however, this is one story that shall remain silent.. so I have decreed, so it shall be.. until the day my Children call upon me from the highest mountains, with bitter tears and broken hearts.. in their moment of greatest sorrow I shall bestow upon them my greatest gift.. the Codex Divine.. when that fateful day does come, dear Veda, none will fear the dark.. for I shall banish it from existence with the story of how I came to be..>>. Category:TheSecret1070 Category:Short Stories Category:Finished Stories